Cataclysm
by Ship
Summary: The Hoenn League is called to disband, and Pokemon condemned. Jack is thrown into a world of cataclysm that he must repair, with only the help of the trainers of Littleroot and Professor Max Birch. Rated T for swearing. Please R&R.
1. Ch1

**Hi guys, this is a story about what happens after a young boy, Oscar, is killed (for reasons I will not go into yet) by pokemon while trying to save his own pokemon. Jack, Oscars older brother, is thrown into a world of cataclysm as the Hoenn League disbands, and law and order collapse.**

**Please R&R**

**-Ship-**

**P.S. The next chapter is longer!**

Chapter 1

A woman was stood on the podium, behind her a building of immense proportions gleaming in the sun. A crowd was assembled before her, spurred to anger and indignation.

"What world is this, where we give children of ten years, not even past childhood, the responsibility over a dangerous, often hostile beast? We send them into the wild on their own, trusting them to master the skill of command over their new pokémon, before they are jumped upon by the wilder, stronger and more dangerous counterparts of their new friends, or, oftentimes, enemies.

"What world is this, where we let our children fight it out for our entertainment? The League is not a way for children to test themselves, whatever we may kid ourselves. It exists to please the masses, nothing more.

"And what world is this, that we see this as acceptable? Well I tell you now, my friends, we shall not be blinded any longer. Above all, we shall keep our children safe."

Cheering met her speech, the roar of the crowd deafening beyond imagining. Jack unplugged the television in Max Birch's lab. A tear rolled down his eye as he remembered his younger brother, Oscar. Oscar had been thirteen when he was killed three months ago, and, since then, Jack had fought only for him. But this woman didn't understand. She saw death, not life, in the eyes of pokémon,.

But Oscar wouldn't want that. The disbanding of the league would destroy the sacred bond between pokémon and humanity, the very bond that he had died to protect – and Jack would not allow it.

The moment the league ceased to be, Jack's pokémon would be transported to Ever Grande, where the cabinet were already making their decisions. So he let them out. Professor Birch was already in action, taking pokéballs from their indentations on the long shelf and placing them in an MTP - Multiple Transfer Port. His own pokémon would, like as not, be safe, under the proposed research licensing law, but he was up to something.

"Open the boxes, Jack." Birch gestured to a stack of cardboard boxes in the corner.

"A'right." Jack mumbled. He drew a small pocket knife from a pouch held at his waist and sliced the parcel tape on one box. The box was filled to the brim with pokéballs. Jack looked blankly at the balls, registering the pattern – the usual red was replaced with a dark grey, and the white underside featured four short studs of the same colour. They reminded him of the heavy ball occasionally used in the Silver Conference in Johto.

"Max – What the fuck?" He called over to the professor.

"I had them custom made by a man in the Devon Corporation – They have no link to the League. Unregistered, unknown. Start putting them into the other MTP, I have the two isolated and linked up, and, if the programming works, the pokémon should be transferred into the new balls, and the old ones will be sent to the League storage room. No one should notice a few empty pokéballs, and the computer will think all of these pokémon are accounted for." The professor began talking to himself as he checked the machines.

Jack shrugged and quickly began loading the new balls into the racks of the modified MTP, nervous that, if this went wrong, he would lose his pokemon. His party were milling around uncertainly, so he took the new balls and recalled them, placing them at his belt.

At last, Birch finished his preparations. He pushed the transfer button, and stepped back nervously. Jack touched the pokéballs at his side. It was a small consolation from the air of uncertainty that his six closest pokemon, at least, were safe.


	2. Ch2

**Hi guys, this is a story about what happens after a young boy, Oscar, is killed (for reasons I will not go into yet) by pokemon while trying to save his own pokemon. Jack, Oscars older brother, is thrown into a world of cataclysm as the Hoenn League disbands, and law and order collapse.**

**Please R&R**

**-Ship-**

**P.S. Again, this is a fairly short chapter, but the two first chapters are sort of the intro, so I will deepen the storyline a bit as it goes along, and there will be much longer chapters.**

Chapter 2

"And now, ladies and gentlemen of Hoenn," The radio crackled, "I regret to inform you that, one hour ago, the Cabinet decreed that the Pokemon League of the Region of Hoenn should cease to exist. This is Hoenn League Radio, for the final time. Goodnight."

Jack's head sunk in his hands, and the room was quiet. Through the ajar door to the lab, the glow of hundreds of pokéballs shone as they vanished, transported to Ever Grande. Anger could be seen plainly on the normally calm and resolute face of Max Birch, sitting at the table with his fists clenched.

"At least the custom balls are safe," Birch murmured. "The League may be gone but we still have our pokémon."

Jack, Birch, and the three other trainers of Littleroot sat around the table, their pokéballs close at hand.

Tears rolled gently down Rose Birch's face. She was the daughter of Max, and the youngest trainer there by a year. "I never got to compete..." The eleven-year-old girl sobbed.

Dale looked at her, apparently incredulous. He made to speak, but Dena, his twin sister, shook her head. Rose had not yet grasped the magnitude of the situation. Without the league, the government would fall apart, the cabinet would slowly lose their power whilst trying to procure a new police force from scratch – the old one was tied to the league, and was brought down with it.

The door crashed open, and one of Birch's assistants hurried in;

"Professor!" He gasped, sucking in air, "A man from the army just arrived at the police station! He threw Jenny out, and now he's going around all the houses. He says it's just a routine search, but he shot Old Jasper dead, just like that, for not letting him in..." The assistant's voice tapered off into heavy breathing, as the five around the table sat, shocked.

Jack thought quickly – Jasper controlled Littleroot's herd of Donphan and Phanpy, without him, they could go out of control. They were never captured either, but relied on to stay together on instinct. Now the army had killed Jasper, somebody could get seriously hurt when the herd figured it out. But the army were involved the second the League dissipated. The government must have anticipated trouble, and the men would be well armed.

"Quick!" Said Birch, "Take all the balls down to the cellar, we can hide them at the back."

Jack nodded and gathered up his own pokéballs, putting them into his rucksack. He ran across the hallway into the lab, and quickly emptied the shelves of their pokéballs, cramming them into the bag. Dale and Dena were doing the same, whilst Rose looked panicked, not knowing what to do.

Birch hauled open a heavy iron door: "Down here!" He said,holding it wide open for them to pass, "There are some empty crates in the far corner, behind the ones marked electron microscope. Hide them in there, and be quick about it."

The three older trainers emptied the balls into the crates and went back for more. Rose carefully placed her five pokéballs, still in a small felted pouch, in a corner of the crate, and ran to fetch her pokédex.

Dale was starting to panic, they had been at it for ten minutes and not even half of the pokéballs were in the crate. A knock came on the door. Everybody stopped in their tracks and looked towards the doorway. The knock came again.

"Keep going!" Birch whispered, and walked to the door, closing and locking the lab behind him. The four young trainers moved as quickly as they dared, carrying as many pokéballs as they could possibly handle at a time. Dale heard Birch unlatch and open the door, slowly and calmly.

"Good evening sirs, how may I help you?"

"We're here to search your residence, professor."

"For what, may I ask?" The professor was feigning indignation, Jack surmised.

"What else but Pokémon?"

"I think you'll find that I am perfectly entitled to have pokémon in my possession, as a researcher in that field, and those registered to other trainers have already been remotely transferred to the League."

"Don't play smart with us, professor. We're looking for pokémon that have been taken out of their pokéballs. They don't transfer, as I'm sure you well know."

"Well, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. There are no loose pokémon running around my house – or laboratory, for that matter."

"Well, then, you won't mind if we take a look, will you?"

The balls were mostly all in their crates, only a few remained. Dale tossed them into his rucksack and threw the bag down to Jack, who dropped it into the final crate and hauled the lid closed. He clipped the latches over the top and ran to close the cellar door.

A bang sounded on the locked door to the lab, and Birch could be heard stalling the men: "I'll just go and get the keys. No, there's no point in using that, the door is steel, and the structure around it is reinforced concrete, you'll never break it down. No, not even with a ram, It's designed to keep people out. My equipment is really very valuable,you know."

By now, the children were climbing out of the unlocked window of the lab, Dale first, then Rose, passed through by Dena, who quickly followed. Jack scampered up onto the ledge, and squeezed through the gap, closing the window behind him and leaping down onto the bank.

The children sidled around the building to get a view from the more concealed window at the side of the lab.

"You see?" Birch said triumphantly, "Nobody in here. I told you it was just the computer making those sounds, it sometimes gets a bit overheated."

The men looked disappointed, and proceeded to search the laboratory. Dale became worried when one of the three entered the cellar, but the man just looked at the crates piled high, and decided that all was well.

"Are you satisfied, Colonel?" Birch said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "I wouldn't want to keep you and your men any longer."

The Colonel was a tall man, broad shouldered and straight-backed. He sneered at Birch, "You can shut the fuck up, old man, before I make you. And you just remember that Colonel Banks is watching you." He drew his gaze from the defiant professor and spoke to his men, "Sutcliff! Cooper! Let's go."

Birch sat down heavily when he heard the door click shut, and he shook with trepidation. Dale lowered himself from the window ledge, and looked at his friends and his sister. The day Professor Max Birch lost face, even when he thought he was alone, was a day of cataclysm.


	3. Ch3

**Hi guys, this is a story about what happens after a young boy, Oscar, is killed (for reasons I will still not go into) by pokemon while trying to save his own pokemon. Jack, Oscars older brother, is thrown into a world of cataclysm as the Hoenn League disbands, and law and order collapse.**

**I am also considering making a rom hack for Ruby (Considering? I've already started reworking the Hoenn map, though partly for help knowing where my story is going) based on Cataclysm.**

**Please R&R**

**-Ship-**

**P.S. Thanks for the pointers, I have tried to include a bit more character description in this chapter.**

Chapter 3

Today was Oscar's birthday. Actually, it was his tenth birthday, and the day on which Professor Birch would give away one rare pokémon each to the new trainers of Littleroot and Oldale. Oscar was, needless to say, excited. In front of him were four pokéballs – those of Torchic, Treecko, Mudkip, and, a new addition to the offered pokémon since last year, when Birch acquired a female Salamence, Bagon.

To Oscar's delight, the twins, Dale and Dena, eleven this year, and identical in nearly every way, from their dark hair, to their fiery determination, picked Torchic and Treecko. Oscar desperately wanted a Mudkip, and, he reasoned, no other trainer but himself would choose a Mudkip over a _Bagon_. He hadn't met a trainer yet who preferred the little splashing water pokémon to the powerful dragon. Then despair fell over him; the Oldale trainer was reaching for the ball with the little water droplet imprinted on the front. His heart fell as the hand closed around his dream pokémon.

"Yeah!" Chris shouted out with glee, "I got Mudkip!"

So Oscar had no choice but to choose the last remaining pokémon, and feign happiness, saying that he had always wanted a Bagon, that it was his favourite pokémon, and they would be the best of friends.

He followed the others outside and silently cursed his politesse in allowing the others to pick first. His mother was waiting for him, and she congratulated him on getting his favourite, and his father slapped him on the back, laughing. Only his brother, Jack, leant against the fence, his auburn hair dishevelled by the breeze, and smiled sadly. Oscar had confided his preference only in Jack, and now the older boy knew, as soon as he saw the concealed dismay on his younger brother's face, that he had been disappointed.

"It'll be alright." Jack said later, in an attempt to console his younger brother, "You know what? I never wanted a Treecko. But now, me and Grovyle are great friends."

Oscar had not yet let his new pokémon out of it's ball, and now he saw Jack reach around to release the Bagon from the pokéball, distinguished with a white tooth printed onto the red.

He smiled involuntarily as the little pokémon wandered around, and looked towards him. It smiled back and jumped up into Oscar's lap.

"There you go!" Jack exclaimed, "It likes you already!"

Oscar laughed, "Hello Bagon!" he said, his tears brushed away, "You're a funny little guy, aren't you?" Then he stopped, bemused, as the little pokémon jumped from his bed and went, head first, straight through the floor. He landed on a kitchen tile, cracking it, and stood up, slightly dazed. Bagon looked up though the hole, slightly confused as to how he got through the floor, and the two boys began to laugh uncontrollably.

"Oscar!" His mum called, "Why did your pokémon just break through my ceiling?" She sounded annoyed, understandably.

"I'm not sure, Mum. Why did my pokémon just break through your ceiling?" Replied Oscar. He and Jack immediately burst into fits of laughter again.

By the next day, Oscar was ready to leave. He and Bagon walked out of Littleroot in high spirits, Route 101 ahead, and his home town retreating into the distance behind him. The slight uphill climb of the Route, combined with the ledges Oscar climbed to avoid crashing through the undergrowth, where he knew he should be venturing to find the resident pokémon, tired his legs, and he soon sat down for a rest, perhaps a mile from home.

He watched a Swellow circle high above, searching for prey in the shade of the surrounding woods. Munching on a sandwich, he pulled out his new pokédex, and aimed the target-finding lens in the vague direction of the Swellow;

"Swellow dives upon prey from far above," It said, "It never misses its targets. It takes to the skies in search of lands with a warm climate." A small eye appeared beside the icon of the Swellow and the machine continued: "This particular Swellow is close to two meters from beak to tail, an unusually large specimen." A new icon appeared in the corner, "Data saved for information transfer."

Oscar knew what that meant – the pokédex would wait until the next time it was linked to a computer and send the data to the Professor. He could easily imagine the Professor becoming excited over such a trivial thing as he watched the bird dive into the forest with lightning precision, probably having seen a small animal to eat.

Bagon watched the bird soar, seemingly wistful.

As the sun rose to it's zenith, a bizarre bird-like pokémon (at least, Oscar assumed it was a pokémon) drifted down to land on a shrub. It looked somewhat like a blue ball, with a beak and feathers, with cloud-like wings.

Oscar scrabbled to his feet, having sat for ten minutes or so, and fished his pokédex back out of his pocket.

It began to speak again in it's tinny tone "Swablu. The Cotton Bird Pokémon. It can't relax if it or its surroundings are not clean. It wipes off dirt with its wings. Swablu are seen throughout Hoenn due to their ability to ride the lightest breeze for an indefinite amount of time. Sightings are rare, however, as there are very few Swablu left in the wild."

Oscar grinned and grabbed a pokéball from his rucksack. He briefly considered getting a belt to keep them on, but then returned to the task at hand. "Bagon!" He shouted, "Use, er, tackle!" He was working off what seemed the most basic move he had seen his brother battle with at the Hoenn Conference last year.

Bagon nodded and leapt at the Swablu, crying out in exhilaration. The startled pokémon hopped into the air, it's wings catching the wind as it did. Bagon's solid head clipped one wing as he made to tackle his opponent back to the ground. The pokémon lost balance and crashed into the dirt. Bagon turned around for another attack, predicting Oscar's hesitant command, and leapt at the prone form of the bird pokémon, knocking it back down as it tried to push off the ground.

The Swablu was injured, but as Bagon closed in for the final tackle, it's cottony wings turned to steel, allowing the bird to club Bagon around the face with surprising strength. Now, the two were on equal footing, the Swablu unable to take off for fear of taking it's attention away from the dinosaurian attacker, and Bagon dazed and confused.

Oscar decided that his time to strike was now, so he threw the pokéball at the little blue pokémon and hoped. The ball opened and encased Swablu As it wobbled, Bagon threw himself on it without hesitation and held it shut, not wishing to battle with metal wings again.

"Go, Bagon!" Oscar cheered, as the light on the ball dimmed, "Oh yes! I caught a Swablu!" He caught the ball coming back to him and tossed it in the air, catching it in one hand. He grinned

Bagon stood up wearily and held up a thumb to Oscar, before scampering over and opening Oscar's bag. He pulled out his own pokéball and looked at Oscar. "Bagon?", the meaning of the question seemed obvious, so Oscar laughed. He knelt down and took the pokéball from Bagon, turning it to find the button, before recalling his new friend. Oscar quickly packed away his lunchbox, and his pokéballs, and carried on his way, scrambling onto ledges and trotting slowly up the hill.

He had covered most of the eight mile trek by the time he saw the Oldale Radio mast that linked the networks as far as Littleroot. Bagon was once again walking beside him, his energy replenished after a short time in his pokéball. With a smile, he broke into a run over the crest and back down the last slope to Oldale.

Oldale was a small town, only a little larger than Littleroot, but with it's own Pokémon Center, a few shops, and, most notably, the Oldale Brewery, a large brick building that gave the surrounding area the smell of fermenting beer. As Oscar entered the small town, he looked around for the Pokémon Centre, where he knew he could find free lodgings, and heal Bagon and Swablu, hopefully not completely rebellious after it's capture.

"Hello, young man." Nurse Joy welcomed him as he entered the centre, only a little way down the path littered with stores and houses at the entrance to Oldale. The Center was predominately built from wood, the rich colours of the local Acer, taken from the edges of Greatroot Forest, giving the Centre a good feeling.

"Hello." Oscar replied to the Nurse, "Nurse Joy, please can you heal my Bagon and Swablu? I think Swablu is hurt, and Bagon is very tired." He crafted his sentence to seem as pleading as possible, and it seemed to work.

The Nurse smiled warmly and took the pokéballs from the young trainer. "A Swablu and a Bagon?" She said, "It sounds like you're trying to be a Dragon pokémon trainer."

Oscar just looked confused; "I don't know." he said, he didn't understand how Swablu was in any way related to dragons. Bagon, perhaps, although he seemed more like a lizard than a dragon, but Swablu? A little blue bird with wings made of clouds?

"Bagon is a Dragon-type" The Nurse continued, "and even though Swablu is a Flying and Normal-type pokémon, it evolves into Altaria, which is part Dragon-type. I have to say, for a beginner trainer, to have caught a Swablu is an achievement to be proud of."

Oscar retrieved his Pokédex and opened it up. "Bagon is a Dragon-type pokémon." It confirmed, "It evolves into Shelgon, and then Salamence when it becomes old or experienced enough. Swablu's evolved form, Altaria, is also a Dragon-type."

"Oh yeah..." Oscar said, still not sure. Salamence, at least, was clearly a dragon, and so must Bagon be, as it's offspring, but Altaria didn't exactly look like the dragon Pokémon he had seen on TV, predominately in the Indigo League, as he had stopped following the Hoenn Conference when Jack was knocked out in the sixth round last year, before he could face any dragon trainers. Dragonair and Kingdra, for example.

Nurse Joy smiled again, "You can stay in Room Seven, if you want. Two other trainers from Littleroot arrived a few minutes ago, after going through Greatroot. Chris came straight home to Oldale after he got his Mudkip yesterday, and he's on his way to Slateport today – he took a ferry across the river on Route 103.

"Thankyou, Nurse Joy. I'll come and get my pokémon later." Oscar replied, slightly annoyed that Chris was already on his way to the next town, even though he planned to visit Petalburg next. He went to his room for the night and dumped his heavy rucksack on the floor. He had a few hours until the shops closed at half-five, so he fished through his bag, looking for his wallet.

He was about to open the door, when a knock came, and startled him into hitting his head on the wardrobe beside him.

"Crap!" He muttered, and opened the door. Dena stood there, her hand resting on her hip and leaning against the deep doorframe. She was a little taller than Oscar, and her face was less linear. Her twin brother was standing a little way back, his posture almost identical to his sister's, standing at an angle, hand in his pocket, but his head dipped slightly so his dark, tidy fringe fell over his face.

"Oscar!" Dena almost shouted, and Dale smiled at his sister's enthusiasm, winking at Oscar, who was slightly unnerved.

"Hi guys," Oscar replied mildly, "Nurse Joy said you were in town, but I forgot you would be staying here. I was just about to go and buy some stuff, do you want to come with me?"

Dale nodded his affirmation, and Dena beamed, "Yeah!" she said, happily. It took a lot to make Dena unenthusiastic.

Oldale had few shops, but the convenience store held a wealth of cheap food that they could buy, in addition to the food given to them from their parents, which wouldn't last a very long time – perhaps a few days, enough to get them from Littleroot to Petalburg, but both Oscar and the twins wanted to replenish the food eaten on the way to Oldale, and buy some extra, just in case. Oscar had doubts about how he would fit the food in, with his sleeping bag and clothes, but at least he didn't have to carry a tent, thanks to Hoenn's hot summers and very mild winters.

Oscar went, on his own, into a camping store. He browsed through the shelves stacked high with equipment he would never need, but eventually found what he was looking for: A belt with clasps for pokéballs, and a pouch for his Pokédex. The belt was cheap, so Oscar bought it and left the shop.

Having left Dale and Dena to do their own thing, Oscar returned to the Pokémon Center. Nurse Joy looked up as he walked by her desk, and called out to him.

"Oscar?" She said, making him turn around, "Your pokémon are fine now." She picked two pokéballs from behind the desk and placed them on the counter.

Oscar murmured his thanks, and took the balls, clipping them onto his new belt. He lay down on his bed, looking forward to the free dinner served in the atrium of the Center. Again, a knock came from outside. Dale and Dena let themselves in through the unlocked door, and sat on the bed, Dena pulling him upright.

"What?" Oscar said, grumpily.

"Nurse Joy healed our pokémon, we thought you might like to see." Dena said.

"Actually," Dale interjected, "Dena heard Nurse Joy talking to you about your Swablu earlier – our room is right above the Atrium – and she thought it might be healed by now so she wanted to see it."

Dena shot Dale a nasty look, but Oscar just laughed. "I haven't actually brought it out myself, yet. I get the feeling it might be a bit pissed off." Dena looked shocked at the use of the expletive from a boy a year younger than her, but Dale didn't seem to register it. He had learned plenty of curses from the same source as Oscar. Jack. The two boys idolised the eldest of the four current Littleroot trainers, who had competed in the Hoenn and Indigo Leagues in two years, and created a formidable team of pokémon, spearheaded by the agile and strong Grovyle.

Oscar pulled both pokéballs from his belt and called out Bagon and Swablu. Bagon jumped onto the bed beside the three friends, and Swablu fluttered around nervously, before settling on the arm of wooden chair in the corner.

Dena laughed with delight at the little Swablu, before summoning her own Treecko, who sat down by her feet in content. Dale brought out Torchic, and a small lilypad-like pokémon. Oscar took his Pokédex from it's new pouch and aimed it at the pokémon:

"Lotad. The Water Weed Pokémon. Lotad live in ponds and lakes, where they float on the surface. It grows weak if its broad leaf dies. On rare occasions, this Pokémon travels on land in search of clean water."

Oscar looked up. "A Lotad, huh?" He said, "Cool."

Swablu uncertainly flew over to Oscar's outstretched arm and looked at him curiously. The wings were soft, and it's sharp claws dug into his arm slightly, causing a bizarre sensation.

"Oh, Oscar, I forgot to say, Happy Birthday. We bought you this." Dale said, holding out a large paper bag labelled Blacks. Blacks was the outdoor shop where Oscar bought his belt, and he wondered what the twins could have bought him.

"Thanks, guys, you really didn't have to..." Oscar tailed off.

"Yeah, we did. You gave us twenty pounds each for our eleventh." replied Dale, "Now open it."

Oscar reached into the paper bag and slid out a large folded bundle of brown felted cloth. He lifted it and it fell into the shape of a long travelling cloak.

"It's for you to use on the journey." Dale said, "You must have felt the wind today, on Route 101. That's going to get worse as the Winter sets in – It'll be fine, sleeping under the shelter of trees, but out on the Routes, the wind chill will be cold."

"And it goes with your hair... sort of." Dena interjected.

Oscar smiled at Dale's practical thoughtfulness, and Dena's odd whims, and thanked the two. Dena, of course, hugged him, and Dale smiled back. "I got myself one too. Dena thought she might look strange so she's sticking with her regular coat."

"Will you two travel with me?" Oscar asked suddenly, "I don't have any plans further than Petalburg, and I know you two don't – you never have plans, but I don't see the point of us going places separately."

Dena withdrew from her crushing hug. "Of course." She seemed surprised, and Dale nodded, "The only reason we went our own way this morning was because you had already left at some ridiculous hour. Which reminds me, how did you get here after us?"

Oscar shrugged, pleased that the twins shared his desire to travel together, "I stopped a few times. Bear in mind I had to go up a bloody huge hill."

Dena laughed and Dale grinned quietly.

That night, Oscar went to sleep happy.


	4. Ch4

**Another short chapter. I promise things will slow up on this side of the story soon enough, but for now, just enjoy the action.**

**Please R&R**

**-Ship-**

**Edit (22/11/2011): thank you, Zangoose-Kira for pointing out the error. I have fixed it now :) And thanks for the advice. On new chapters I will mark them with Past or Present **

Chapter 4

Jack sat with Dale and Dena in their roof. The dormers gave them a view over most of the town. The Donphan, who had discovered the fate of their master, Jasper, were being held at bay by two men dressed in black and grey camouflage uniform, and holding long rifles. On either side of the men, a second group of Donphan, bigger than those in Jasper's fields, stood.

"So we're not allowed pokémon, but they are, is that it?" Muttered Dale. Dena shuddered in grim anticipation of the ensuing fight.

Beside Jack, in a small rucksack, were his six pokémon. The idea of carrying only six pokémon around just seemed ludicrous now, when a house could be randomly searched at any time, and pokémon confiscated if any were left, but Jack had only six pokémon to his name, caught throughout Hoenn and Kanto. He reached for the bag, but Dale grasped Jack's wrist and shook his head.

"We can't get involved." He said in a low voice. "See those Donphan? There's at least fifteen of them. You can't take them on."

Jack growled a haughty response, but dropped the pokéballs he had picked up. He had no doubt that his pokémon could take on a small herd of Donphan, but if he got involved, and chased away the men, more would come, and he would have to flee or fight, neither of which were outcomes he liked against the full power of Hoenn's armed forces. Old Jasper's herd would have to deal with this on their own.

A few more minutes passed before the first move was made. Ares, the erstwhile leader of the herd, released a roar of defiance, and charged at one of the soldiers. The man raised his rifle, shot once, twice, three times. Ares carried on running, the bullets glancing harmlessly from his armour. One of the army's Donphan rushed out to meet him, the two formidable pokémon meeting head-first in the middle. The second man shot at Ares from an angle as he pushed his enemy back. The bullet struck Ares' foreleg, and he gave a few yards while the man reloaded. The second bullet hit his midriff, the third burying into his calf. One final shot landed in Ares' heart, and a renewed roar emanated from the muscled pokémon. He drove back the larger Donphan, and drove it up onto it's hind legs with impossible strength. A tusk sliced into unconcealed flesh, and drove through and out of the armoured back. Blood was gushing from both pokémon when they fell silent, watched in awe by all. Ares had taken six bullets before he finally died in glorious victory, and now the rest of the herd were emboldened.

It was an impressive sight, an entire herd of Donphan charging another, smaller but more powerful and with guns backing them up. Jack watched grimly as more and more of the enraged pokémon fell to bullets, tusks, and powerful hooves. These were pokémon fighting for their lives, and at last, five of Jasper's herd stood against three of the Army's, and the two men. A tusk speared one of the men through the ribage, and he fell to the ground, dead instantly. The Donphan responsible was shot, as were two others, and one fell to a crushing blow to the skull. The final two pokémon faced off, and, as the army's pokémon died on a sharp ivory spike, a bullet hit the eye of Ares' mate, Helena.

The surviving man walked away, seemingly unperturbed by the incident, or even the death of his comrade. Jack swore bitterly and vowed to kill the man for what he had done.

Dena was crying softly, Dale comforting her with a pale face and wavering reassurances. Jack was simply angry, more so than he had ever been before. They heard footsteps on the stairs, and their heads snapped around as the twins' mother walked in. She sat down with them and stared silently at the aftermath of the chaos on Jasper's fields.

Jack gathered up his possessions and loaded them into a rucksack. He donned a black jacket and tracksuit trousers. He wore his pokéballs on the inside of the jacket, with his gym badges from the Hoenn and Indigo Leagues.

Greatroot Forest loomed on the other side of Littleroot; he would have to go through it to get anywhere – The entrance to Route 101 was blockaded, and to get through he would have to be searched. Jack did not want to be searched while bearing the badges of the fallen Hoenn league, and a team of pokémon. He had no doubt that the Indigo and Johto leagues had been disbanded now, the way things were going before he, the twins, and Rose had turned off the television last night.

Rose was in bed now – she had been put there by Max before the battle in Jasper's fields had kicked off. It pained Jack to be leaving his friends, but he would not put them in danger. If he told anybody, the twins would insist on coming with him, and, if he left it until tomorrow, his parents, two of the biggest campaigners against pokémon after Oscar's death, would find his pokémon and give them up to the army.

No, he must leave tonight, but there was something he had to do first. He crept out of his house, avoiding the soldiers enforcing curfew. He found his way to Jasper's field, where some of the more compassionate soldiers had piled the bodies of the Donphan into a heap, and cremated them with the help of the two Combusken detailed with the Donphan to assist the soldiers in subduing Littleroot. It was nice to know that some of the soldiers, at least, recognised that their orders were wrong, even if they wouldn't disobey them.

The anger of helplessness as he had watched the Donphan killed still burned within Jack, and he let himself into Jasper's hut with the key hidden under the flowerpot. Colonel Banks lay on the bed, sleeping comfortably.

"Good evening, Colonel." Jack said, fire burning in his eyes.

Banks awoke, and sat up, rubbing his eyes. "And who the hell are you?" He slurred, reaching for a pistol beside his bed.

"My name is Jack Stone." A rifle, taken from the untouched corpse of one of the soldiers, pointed at the Colonel's chest, "Drop the Pistol, Colonel."

Colonel Banks dropped the pistol and began to speak, but Jack cut him off.

"Goodnight, Colonel."

A single shot rang out across the village, and a figure ran into the undergrowth , hidden behind the bright light of a pyre, burning with the blood of Ares.


	5. Ch5

**In this chapter, no Pokemon die... In this edit, at least.**

**Thanks for the inspiration on the last bit Beth, you sadistic psychopath.**

**Please R&R**

**-Ship-**

Chapter 5

A crack sounded, echoing through the town. Dena started at the noise, crying out in surprise, and Dale called her over to the window, his voice quiet, anguished, even. She knelt at his side, confused. All she could see was the pyre in Jasper's fields, and the black of the forest beyond.

"Jack ran." Dale said, "Into the forest. He left Jasper's hut and sprinted off into the trees, just after the gunshot went off."

"Gunshot?" Dena replied, "Are you sure?"

Dale nodded grimly, "There was no mistaking it. The Colonel must have shot at Jack, but Jack escaped. Now he's gone."

Dena was confused. Why was Jack in Jasper's hut? And why had the Colonel tried to shoot him? Nothing made sense. Mulling it over, she saw movement at the tree line. "Look!" she said, excited, "There he is!", but the figure turned back to the trees and walked into the depths of the forest.

Dale shook his head. "That wasn't Jack."

"We have to go!" she replied, ignoring this last comment, "We have to help him!"

"I said that wasn't Jack. And it wasn't a soldier, either, or he would have gone straight after Jack the second he ran. Whoever it was, Jack isn't alone anymore. And he'll have to look after himself."

Angry, Dena stalked over to her bed and picked up a shoulder-bag, slinging it over her head. "You know what Dale? Just fuck off. I'm going to help Jack, whether you are or not." She planted a foot against the base of the window and pushed it open. A bright white light flashed as she tossed a pokéball out into the air. A steel bird formed in the light, and Dena leapt from the window, landing on the. A bullet sped through the air and hit hard into the wall, shattering bricks with a sharp retort.

Dale cried out, standing at the window, as his sister fled on the back of Skarmory, flying high over the forest. She looked back as he ducked away from the rifles of the soldiers, and, with a pang of guilt, looked forward again, concentrating on the forest below. She caught a glimpse of water between the black branches of Greatroot, and dived to the ground, leaping from the back of her mount into a big tree. "Skarmory!" She shouted into the sky, "Find Jack!"

She leapt from the branch onto the peaty soil, landing in a crouch. Faint gunshots sounded from the direction of the town, but she forced herself not to listen. Dale was more than a match for the pitifully few soldiers who garrisoned Littleroot. Instead, she turned back towards the tree, and saw writing carved into the trunk. The edges of the scratch-marks were worn with age, but the words showed clear. Loose clumps of moss lay on a stone slab at the base of the trunk, recently torn from the tree where the carvings were now revealed. "Oscar," They said; "Dale, Jack, Dena."

Dena wept openly at the memory of herself, and her three greatest friends, one her twin, one her mentor, and one, her love. They had been small children then, untied by love or admiration, but seeing eachother as perfect equals. Now one was dead, one fighting, and one fleeing from the world.

"Mightyena." She called out her wolf pokémon, "Jack was here. Can you find his trail?"

The pokémon sniffed around, and then found what he was looking for. He bounded away, his trainer sprinting behind him, following a familiar smell. Dena determinedly followed on, Skarmory circling high above.

After an hour of jogging and walking alternately, Dena came to the edge of a glade. Mightyena leapt to a rock protruding from the centre of the glade, and sniffed disappointedly around it. He had found what he was looking for, but it was too late. Gouge marks in the rock told Dena all she needed to know. Jack had come to this place, but flown away, his Charizard carrying him to wherever he aimed.

Dena sank to her knees, bare feet scratched and muddy, danger behind her and danger ahead, and scared without the constant companionship of her twin.

Dale stood at the window, a long rifle dwarfing him. His father, Silver Caste, stood a few metres away, aiming through the next window at the blockade where sat five soldiers. His pokémon patrolled the skies and the ground, making sure to stay out of the firing line of the blockade. His mother, Kris, was in Max Birch's Lab, hiding in the cellar with Rose and Simon, the fat tramp who usually made his home in the eaves of Greatroot, accepted as a part of the village for as long as Dale could remember.

A movement came from the blockade and Dale loosed a poorly aimed shot, sending a bullet flying high over the blockade. His father's more reliable aim landed a shot in the arm of a soldier who was unlucky enough to reveal himself.

A burst of fire erupted from the direction of Blaziken's hiding place. The soldier's Combusken had long since been recalled, having no chance against the superior Blaziken, and the collection of other pokémon around the village.

Suddenly, two of the three armoured cars used by the soldiers erupted from the back of the blockade, careening up Route 101. Dale lowered his rifle and smiled. He nodded at his dad, exhausted.

"You know, Dale, nothing will ever be the same again?" His father said wearily. "Littleroot will come under attack, and eventually, we'll fall."

Dale was worried by this display of defeatism from the older man.

"I want you to leave. Follow Dena and Jack and find somewhere safe."

Dale lowered his head, and began to talk. "Nowhere is safe. We never told you the truth about how Oscar died, did we Dad?"

"I'm sorry? What do you mean?" He was worried, or sounded it.

"There was no freak accident in Sootopolis."

The truth slowly came out, the story of Oscar's death shocking Dale's father. Dale felt ashamed to have hidden the story, but the way things had turned out, there was no point anymore. The world was falling apart.

Max walked in, his broad build dominating the room. "They're gone." He said, "But more will be back."

Dale and Silver said nothing, but their gloomy faces agreed.

"We can't leave. They'll find us and kill us all." Silver said, looking straight at Max.

"Ah," replied Max, "but we can fight."

Most of the residents of the tiny Littleroot Town - Dale, Max, Silver, Kris, Simon, Tom the builder and an old couple who lived at the far south of the village - ran back and forth between their houses and the poorly constucted blockade. Silver's Alakazam stood at the edge of the forest, felling trees with his mind and lifting them into a rough barricade while Dale's Tropius pulled trees up by the roots, assisting Alakazam in his efforts.

Dale coordinated his pokémon, trying to get Jasper's enormous truck onto it's side behind the main blockade, while others reinforced the existing cluster of corrugated iron and concrete blocks. His Sandslash dug a honeycomb under the route, and Max, crawling through the cramped tunnels, laid bombs throughout the network. When asked where the crates of plastic explosive had come from, the professor just shrugged, embarrassed, and mumbled that you never knew when things could be useful.

By evening, Littleroot looked formidable. Barbed wire lined a high stockade, and at it's entrance, a makeshift barbican was home to a host of traps and weaponry. Mounted behind crenellations of broken brick and blocks of cement was a huge gun, cannibalised from the remaining armoured car and bolted to strong scaffolding poles. Windows were shuttered and boarded up, and a watchman sat at the top of the wall, eyeing the quiet route beyond suspiciously. A Fearow circled high above, watching the land and skies for miles around.

Dale thought about his sister as he lay restless in bed. Was she alright? Had she found Jack, or was she still wandering the skies on Skarmory, ceaselessly searching for the twins' erstwhile protector? Wherever she was, she was certainly not here.

Dena awoke beside a stream, dry tears on her cheeks. The surroundings seemed oddly familiar, but, of course, she had slept here before. This was Marsh Isle. She rose up and stretched, the chirping call of a Mudkip confirming her location; the mud-fish pokémon made their homes on this island, making it a nature reserve. Well, it was a nature reserve before the League disbanded – Dena had no idea what would come of it in the next few years.

She had flown high and fast the night before, and landed on the island, tired. Skarmory was too exhausted to go on, and Dena didn't want to risk travelling by day in this new world of hatred. She remembered Dale and Jack, and quickly pushed them out of her thoughts. She had no chance of catching up with Jack on Charizard, and Dale had probably left Littleroot by now. So she was alone. Shit.

Dena collected up the thin sleeping bag and rolled it into it's even thinner nylon sack. She shoved the poor substitute for a blanket down into her shoulder bag and hoisted it high over her head, letting it come to rest with the strap close to her neck. A gentle wind cut through her cropped hair as Skarmory, having taken a roost high in a tree for the night, landed, disrupting the dust beneath his feet.

"No food this morning Scar," She said, her own stomach empty and grumbling, "If you want breakfast, you'll have to go and hunt."

The elegant steel form took off again in search of food, not willing to miss out on breakfast after a night of hard flying. Dena decided against calling out her other pokémon – they would be kept in stasis inside their unfamiliar pokéballs, and so would not need to eat.

As she looked around, an abundance of trees bearing Pecha berries made her reconsider, so she took her balls from the bag and tossed them out onto the ground. The light of the five pokéballs was blinding, but Dena was already walking to the nearest tree to retrieve the fist-sized fruits. The slight resistance of the branch made picking the ripe fruit a satisfying task, and the sweet taste reminded her of eating home-made crumbles as a kid.

Her pokémon liked the Pecha Berries too, indulging in a fair few of the berries before settling down contentedly. Scar was unique in that he was exclusively a carnivore – he refused to eat fuits or berries, or even the nutritionally tailored artificial crap that many pokémon preferred to the real thing. He would only eat meat – mostly small animals found on hunting trips, and raw fish given to him from packets, but he was rather partial to the most expensive cuts and fillets of meat eaten by Dale and Dena.

Dena filled a rather empty food box with the fruit, and recalled her pokémon, none of whom were being remarkably helpful.

The island was large, and, had she not been here before, she would never have had a clue where she was without the help of Scar. For the lack of the bird pokémon, she would now have to walk along the stream to get to the coast.

As Dena walked, she noticed that the pokémon were on edge; a bevy of Marshtomp turned and fled back downriver when they saw her, and flocks of Taillow scattered from trees at her approach. She wondered warily what had them so riled as she headed for the one place where she knew pokémon would be safe.

Fear rose in her throat as she came into sight of the Ranger Center. The windows of the building were boarded up, and soldiers patrolled inside a barbed wire fence. A cage beside the stream's mouth held a disheveled looking man.

His green jacket was stained brown from blood, his hair matted and congealed from the red cut on his scalp, and his head rolled as he turned to look at her. He mouthed a word, but Dena's attention was pulled away as a soldier shouted. She felt a sharp pain in her arm and pulled out a red dart, aghast. Another dart thudded into her thigh, and weariness engulfed her. She collapsed to the ground and, as she struggled to stay conscious, she saw the soldiers running towards her through blurred eyes. She heard a cry, and saw the distinct shape of a green-clad man standing, in waves of electrified spasm as he struggled to force open a door.

Blackness closed in.


	6. Ch6

**Sorry for the long delay - I'm improvising as I write this - I have no set plan. I know where it is going, but I don't know the specifics until I write them. It's just how I work. Therefore, this is my third attempt at this chapter, each time with a different story. I am finally happy with this one, though, so I hope you like it!**

**Please R&R**

**-Ship-**

Chapter 6

A twisting jet of water erupted from Bagon's toothed mouth, surging across the rocky terrain. Kenny was shocked at the ferocity of the stunted dragon pokémon – no challenger yet had proven so strong, so early on in their journey. He gritted his teeth as Pupitar was slammed against the gym wall.

"Pupitar, return." He called, holding the ball out in the direction of the unconscious pokémon. Oscar had wiped out Graveler and Pupitar in a matter of seconds. That Hydro Pump was insanely powerful, and yet Bagon was so young. Oscar, too, showed incredible talent when it came to directing his pokémon, and, though Kenny was not using his strongest pokémon – they had dominated the league in their time – he had not expected such a challenge.

At least his final pokémon had a feasible chance to resist Hydro Pump's power. He clasped the pokéball in his fist, and threw it out onto the field.

"Go, Corsola!"

Oscar blinked surprisedly as a pale blue Corsola formed from the red light of the pokéball. He could have sworn Corsola were pink. He shook his head, disregarding the obscurity and considered his options.

"Bagon – Headbutt!"

Bagon leapt from his wide stance into a run, sprinting at his opponent. Corsola dodged, leaving room for Kenny to unleash a stream of commands. Corsola issued a stream of bubbles from it's mouth, driving Bagon futher off course, before hardening as it jumped at Bagon, resulting in a rock-hard tackle that left Bagon prone. Leaping to his feet, Bagon used his Hydro Pump once more, hitting the braced coral pokémon head on.

Both pokémon were now tiring, Bagon worse off due to his previous battles. Bagon crouched between two large stones, steadying his breathing in wait for a command from Oscar, the strategist of the battle, analysing the field for a perfect opportunity.

Kenny smiled. "Corsola? Icicle Spear."

Corsola leapt onto a high rock and sent waves of needle-thin ice shards at Bagon. For a moment, Bagon looked as if he would survive the attack, but as the ice struck him repeatedly, he toppled and lay exhausted on the floor.

Oscar grimaced and recalled Bagon. There was no way the undersized dragon could stand up to the powerful ice attack, even if he could pull himself back up. Now, Oscar regretted not catching more pokémon, having only one backup against Kenny's final stand.

"Swablu, let's finish this." He muttered into the pokeball, "I choose you!"

Swablu emerged, already flying through the air at Corsola. The flying pokémon entered a shallow dive at Oscar's command, and Steel Wing smashed home on Corsola's hard body, throwing it against a tall rock. A second dive was met with Corsola's Tackle, though a departing peck from Swablu left Kenny's pokémon hurt and shielding itself with the spiky protrusions on it's back. Coming around for a third attack, Swablu was hit by Icicle Spear, but, flying headlong into the barrage of ice, Swablu hit Corsola a final time with Steel Wing.

It was all over. Kenny looked shocked; he had ended up using the three most powerful pokémon of his six-strong team to lose spectacularly against a rookie with only his two, newly obtained partners.

"Shit." Dale muttered from the sideline, "Well aren't I fucking glad I don't have to fight him..."

Nurse Joy was surprised, to say the least, when she saw the three unconscious pokémon brought in by a pale-looking Kenny, followed by the young boy of ten years, bearing two pokémon: one who was smiling weakly in the arms of his trainer, having just come around, the other flying strongly, albeit with a few bruises and cuts.

"Return, Swablu, Bagon." The pokémon gladly withdrew into their balls, to be placed on the tray presented by Joy.

"What happened?" She asked, concerned by the magnitude of contrast in injury between the two teams.

"Oscar here wiped me out!" Chuckled Kenny, his magnanimous attitude shining through the insecurity following his defeat, "Which reminds me, Oscar? Here is your Stone Badge." Kenny flicked the badge up into the air. Oscar watched it's spin as it reached the apex of it's flight, and dropped down into his outstretched hand. "Nurse Joy? I'll be back to pick up my pokémon this evening, yes?"

"Of course. They should be healed by then. In the meantime, I assure you there is no lasting damage." Nurse Joy smiled politely.

Kenny nodded and left, clapping Oscar on the back as he did so. Oscar pinned the badge onto the inside of his cloak, proud of his victory in his first real battle.

Dale lay on his bed, his thoughts masked from Oscar and Dena as they talked about the battle. Oscar left the room, leaving Dena to cope with the ever-mysterious whims of dale's mind.

He sat up. "You know, even without Bagon's water attacks, Oscar would have won?"

Dena nodded silently. She, too, had seen the extent of Oscar's battling. He was unstoppable.

"He reminds me of Jack." Dale continued, ignoring the hidden resent that he knew lay beneath Dena's smile. "The way he battles, he knows his pokémon and he knows what they can do. He's a rookie, just like us, but somehow he's bonded with his pokémon in a way that we haven't, in a way that not many people can." Dale lay back down. "He'll go a long way, will Oscar. We have to be there to go with him."

Dena knew Dale's moods, and she could tell that he meant it. She knew, as well as he did, that Oscar would take Hoenn by storm, if only from the previous battle alone, but she knew Oscar, too, and it was too easy to see him collapsing without somebody to be with him.

Dale closed his eyes as he lay there on the bed, Dena sitting on the edge of the mattress and the warmth of the room comforting the both of them. "This is going to be harder for you than for me, Dena. You've chosen to walk the same road as Oscar; you're a trainer. I can enter the contests, and not be outshone by him, but you will have to follow in his shadow, and let him excel. He'll pull you up with him, but he has an affinity for pokémon that neither you, nor I, will ever have. Just remember that it's our job to protect him."

Dena swallowed her anger at Dale's words and remained silent. It was true, and her twin could see it better than any. She would have to train hard to keep up with Oscar, and he would outclass her at every turn. She would just have to live with it. Her brother, it seemed, had said all he had to say, so she stood and walked to the bathroom.

The day before, she had lost to Kenny, and she needed to beat him in her rematch in two days time. It was time to train.

Oscar stood in the atrium of the Pokémon Center, looking out at the pouring rain. A man walked to his side, and he stiffened. The man was dressed in a suit, an unfamiliar logo adorning one lapel.

"I saw your battle." The man spoke coldly, a slight accent gave the voice a deep tone.

"What of it?" Oscar replied, just as coldly.

"You are an exceptional trainer." The face remained emotionless.

"Thankyou." Oscar observed the formality, but gave no other signs of gratitude towards the empty compliment.

"Oscar, is it? Well, Oscar, I know a group of people who could do with a trainer of your... calibre. If you happen to pass Dewford Island on your travels, be sure to find a man named Plautius. He stays in the Palm Hotel. You could do great things, Oscar. And we could help you."

"Perhaps you could, sir, but actually, I'm alright as I am."

The man scowled and turned away. "Meet Plautius. He will talk with you." He walked briskly from the Center, and Oscar watched him through the window as he strode in the direction of the port.

"What did he want?" Nurse Joy startled Oscar, putting him off balance as he stepped down from the ledge by the window.

"I don't really know. He just told me to meet a man in Dewford." Oscar replied, knowing very well that the adult would immediately advise him to do the opposite.

She lived up to his expectations. "I wouldn't get involved with strange men, Oscar."

Oscar sighed discreetly; the age-old warnings were beginning to wear thin. "I wasn't going to. He didn't seem a very nice man, actually."

"Good." Joy said, matter-of-factly. "Now, I meant to say, Swablu has had some rest, and she's in perfect health. Bagon's exhausted, though. His injuries are only minor, but try to keep him out of battles for a few days – Kenny's Corsola packs a strong punch."

"Thanks, Nurse Joy." Oscar replied, taking the pokeballs proffered by the nurse. Her condescending smile, strangely enough, was scaring him slightly. "We wont be battling anyway for a few days – We're staying in Rustboro for Dena to earn her badge."

"Ok, then." She responded, still smiling brightly, "But when you do, bear in mind that the Rusturf Tunnel is closed. They're widening it to build a train line from Rustboro to Lilycove. I think there'll be a Slateport line aswell. It's about time they spent some money on decent transport – Ferries are too slow, and they can't even get to places like Littleroot, Lavaridge, Fallarbor – you have to take a car down dirt tracks. It's ridiculous."

"Mm." Oscar replied. He wasn't particularly worried about trains. He enjoyed walking anyway. "We can go around the tunnel. Dale wants to get to Verdanturf for his first contest, so I doubt we can go any other way and still be there in time to register."

"Well, as long as you know." Joy finally seemed to figure out that Oscar didn't really want to talk to her. "I've got to go now, Oscar. I'll see you later." she finalised the awkward exchange and walked back to her desk, where she proceeded to sort various documents into piles.

Hunger chewed at Oscar's stomach. He frowned and walked out of the Center, the superstore on the other side of the pedestrianised street attracting his attention. The cashier gave him a strange look as he placed a pack of ginger biscuits on the counter, level with his head, and he gave her a strange look back. She quickly averted her eyes. Adults were fun to embarrass.

Biscuits in hand, he left the shop, wrestling one of the disks from the plastic wrap as he watched people on their phones, sorting through handbags and checking wallets. One particular man, though, caught his eye. The man who had spoken to him in the Center, speaking into a headset. He was walking north, away from the main commercial area. Oscar checked that nobody was watching him, and followed behind the man, staying on the opposite side of the street, and behind, but still in sight.

The man took a right down an alley several blocks down. Oscar crossed the street and leant against a pillar on a shop front. He heard the man knock on a door, and curse as there was no response.

Oscar was slightly disappointed, but his heart lifted again as he heard the unmistakable click of a latch. "Ignis. Did you get what you wanted?"

"The boy didn't react well. He didn't seem best pleased with my offer."

"Fuck. Ustrina won't be happy."

"The hell with Ustrina. Now let me in."

The door closed again, and Oscar glanced around the edge of the alleyway. Nobody was there. He hurried to the door, and read a placard nailed to the dark wood. Engraved in the brass were faded words, in block capitals: "MAGMA RENATVS". Beneath that, a symbol was scratched by hand – a triangle framing a stylized M.

Oscar was slightly perturbed by the mysterious man, and his friend behind the door. He left hurriedly, checking behind him to see if he was followed.


	7. Ch7

**Sorry again for the time taken to update. I think the more... violent ones amongst you will enjoy this chapter.**

**Please R&R**

**-Ship-**

Chapter 7

Dena opened bleary eyes, seeing only black. As her vision cleared, she saw a minuscule red light, giving a red ambience to a centimetre-wide circle of grey metal. Upwards was the occasional star briefly breaking free of the clouds that shrouded the land, darkening the already moonless night.

She stood, and turned around. As she reached out with her hand, a sharp burst of pain pulsed through her, forcing her arm to retract. She stumbled backwards and hit a bar, another shock racking her body. She fell to the ground and pulled her leg in as yet another shock caused her to spasm on the dirt floor.

Dena lay, shivering, her mind blurred by the three successive shocks. She remembered the sight of the ranger, trapped in the cage. Outrage burned in her heart as she recalled being attacked, and, finally, the man trying to lift the door free of it's frame.

She surmised that she, too, was in a cage, and she quickly felt for her bag. It was not there, at her side. They had taken her pokémon. Dena growled and shoulder barged the now visible side of the cage. Electricity ran through her and she was thrown to the ground again. A hoarse voice came from the darkness.

"Dena?"

Dena pulled herself to her hands and knees warily.

"Dena? Don't touch the bars. It hurts."

"I got that, thanks." She squinted for the source of the voice, "Adrian? Is that you?"

"It's me. What's going on on the outside? Are people rebelling?"

Dena recognised the man's voice the second he had spoken. Adrian, a ranger, had competed in the Hoenn League against her, and won, but he lost against Oscar later on in the tournament. The man had become good friends with the trio, especially after finding that he had lost to the brother of Jack, who had also defeated the ranger.

"I – I don't know – Jack left Littleroot, and I followed. There were soldiers there..." Dena's eyes teared up as she remembered the plight that Littleroot had been left in. "I don't know. I don't even know if they're still alive... Mum, Dad, Dale, Max, Rose, none of them."

"I'm sure they're fine," Adrian asserted forcefully. "Don't worry about them, Dena, they've got as good a chance as we have, if not better. We-"

Whatever he was going to say was cut off as a door banged open. A bright torchlight shone into the black night.

"Awake, are we?" A sneering tone came from the direction of the torch. A switch was flicked on, and a lamp bathed them in light. Dena immediately looked down into the crook of her elbow, shielding her eyes from the light. As she looked up again, she saw that both her and Adrian were in separate cages beside a trailer. The cages were powered by a lead snaking it's way back to the ranger station. The bearer of the torch was a lean soldier, a gun strapped across his front. He was tossing a small grey ball up and down.

"Custom balls, eh? Clever." He scowled at Dena. "You may as well get some sleep, scum. Tomorrow's a big day."

Dena became more and more frightened of the man as his mouth broke into a thin grin. He dropped the ball onto the floor, spat after it, and sauntered back into the station, turning the light back off as he did.

Dena reached her arm through the barely visible bars of the cage, and closed her hand over the ball. She tapped the button on the front, and it swung open. No light came from the empty capsule, and fresh tears welled up in her eyes.

Dale sat on the bench, Rose beside him. "Don't you worry." He told her gently, "We're safe."

She sniffed quietly. "Dale?" She asked, "What if they do come back? What then?"

"Well," Dale hesitated, "That's why we blocked off the road. Besides, the pokémon are more than a match for a few soldiers."

At that precise moment, a shout went up from the lookout post. Dale snapped his head up to see Fearow diving down towards the village's gateway.

"Rose, go and wait inside for me, ok?"

She shook her head, suddenly terrified. Dale reached to her side and took a pokéball. "Marshtomp? Could you take Rose inside?"

Marshtomp quickly looked around, saw Rose's tears, glanced towards the gate where people were already gathering, and understood. He nodded firmly, and took Rose by the hand, slowly leading her indoors.

Dale stood hurriedly and ran to the gate, muttering multiple curses under his breath. "Hey!" He called, "What's going on?"

Silver turned as he saw his son. "Dale, good." He said, before turning to address everybody There's a lot of trucks coming down Route 101. Fearow's going up again to watch them, but we need all hands on deck." He was calm, as if dealing with a much simpler situation. "Somebody man the turret, and get ready to repel them. Normally, we should run. This isn't normally. First, we have nowhere to run to, and next, we have four full teams of pokémon, plus those usually left with Max, Simon's Grumpig, Tom, you have your team of Machamp, and Max, you have a fucking army. They probably don't have anything more than a few Combusken. So, we have the advantage."

Max chuckled, "I've more than an army of pokémon. I'd like to let them deal with my mortar." he said, hurrying back to his lab before anybody could question him.

Fearow took off again, spiralling upwards. Dale recalled his team, vaulted onto Tropius and followed; the thick, leafy wings labouring to bring them up to the same altitude. A convoy of perhaps fourteen armoured cars and trucks rolled down the hilly route, kicking up a cloud of dust behind them. Tropius soared at high speed to reach the convoy, slowing to circle above it.

Dale unhooked a ball from his belt and held it to his lips. "Torkoal, match 5 in the Hoenn league? You beat the shit out of Golem and Swampert, remember?" He smiled at the memory, "You're going to do exactly the same thing, but this time, there are more of them."

Dale lowered the ball again and waited. The convoy was moving quickly, but it would take a minute for them to traverse what was left of the route, so he contented himself with simply observing the oncoming storm of wheels and bull-bars. Fearow was slightly higher than Tropius, and Dale could see the sharp, calculating eyes of the fierce pokémon.

"Fearow!" Dale called. The bird jerked it's head in his direction, fixing him with one eye. "I'm going to call out Torkoal, do you think you could catch him and hold him up?" Dale was struggling to make himself heard over the howling of the high winds, but he saw Fearow nod once, and drop slightly, so she circled beneath them. Dale held out the ball, pushed the button and watched the light form into the shape of Torkoal. The shape suddenly assumed solidity, and Torkoal was falling unchecked.

Fearow dived alongside hooking Torkoal's shell with sharp claws. She straightened out, flapping to keep the heavy weight still.

"Now, Fearow, let go!"

Fearow nodded once more, dropping Torkoal down. Tropius followed, stopping fifty feet above the ground, and Dale saw Torkoal crash down onto the ground sending up an explosion of dust. The convoy stopped in the face of this new arrival, short of the town by twenty metres, and everybody watched. As the dust cleared, Torkoal reappeared, and Dale could have sworn the gnarled old pokémon was smiling, even from his lofty vantage point. Dale smiled, too, and shouted, with all the strength in his lungs: "Eruption!"

Great plumes of fire burst from Torkoal's shell, enveloping the area with a mushroom of flames. Torkoal, Dale knew, would be under the destructive shell of the mushroom, charging up his most powerful attack. The flames dissipated, and the foremost of the convoy was burning, engines issuing black smoke. A small sphere of bright light was forming in the agape mouth of the fire pokémon, and as the soldiers, evacuated from their vehicles with practised speed, looked on, they realised what was about to happen.

The smarter ones got out of the way. Those less fortunate were caught up in a beam of pure energy that stabbed through the air, destroying most of the vehicles and leaving a sizeable strip of charred grass extending as far as a small ridge, beyond which the ground had been protected by the mound of packed earth.

From the town, twenty or so pokémon ran to assist Torkoal. The soldier's, now with their weapons ready, began to fire at the wave of incoming assailants. Tropius landed on a pair of soldiers, who, back to back, were crushed beneath his feet. Dale jumped from Tropius' back and called out the two other pokémon who had been taken on the short flight; Mawile and Manectric. Dale turned as a soldier aimed a gun at his head, a moment of fear arising in his heart, but a flaming foot clouted the man and he fell still. Blaziken landed in his place, and glanced towards Dale, winking.

Dale picked up the man's gun, cursing his thoughtlessness at leaving the rifle he had been using in the town. He aimed towards the main cluster of soldiers, hidden behind five comusken and four Machamp (all four of whom were locked in deadly embrace with their counterparts in Tom's team).

He released a shot, missing a soldier by a hair's breadth, and the man snarled. He turned, and Dale saw a broad cut across his cheek, shallow but bloody. Perhaps it had been closer than he previously thought.

The soldier whom Dale had shot at reached to his belt and threw a pokéball. From the ball emerged a colossal mass of blue and grey. Dale recognised the pokémon as a Metagross, and looked again at the man. A lopsided grin appeared on a weathered face as he looked back at Dale, a grin that Dale recognised too well. A grin that took Dale back to Oscar's death.

Dale walked forward, gun held tightly in his loose arm; walked forward through a battlefield of fire, grass, water and thunder; walked forward towards the man, heedless of a great cry from above him as the dragon that mothered his friend's partner crashed into the cold steel giant that killed that same pokémon; walked forward, lifted his arm, and shot, four times. One bullet met a shoulder, another impacted high in the chest. The third shattered a collarbone, and the fourth, as the man fell, broke through the thick bone of the skull, and buried through and out the other side, spraying blood and flesh onto the man's comrades.

Dale dropped onto his knees, repeatedly shooting at the fallen corpse across the route, tears falling from his face. He closed his anguished eyes against the bloody mess of the open grass, and against the terrible fight that raged.

He opened them again as an eerie silence fell. The last of the soldiers were dead. Their pokémon dead or incapacitated. Only Salamence and Metagross still fought, and the fight was short lived, for Salamence closed her teeth around one leg of the fearsome pokémon, and tore it free. She brought it to the ground with an almighty roar, hammering the beast to submission. The rock vice grip or her jaw split the solid iron body of the pokémon, and, with a cry of triumph, she reared up over the empty body.

Anger wracked Dale's body as he saw the man, lying dead on the cold ground. Plautius.


	8. Ch8

**A *very* brief glimpse into Jack's goings on in the caves beneath Ever Grande. This took so much contemplation - I think I finally have a clear idea of where this is going. Well, clear-ish.**

**Please R&R**

**-Ship-**

Chapter 8

Jack's footsteps echoed in the tunnel. His backpack was heavy on his back, he had been walking for several hours in the dark labyrinth of Victory Road. He looked again at the scrap of paper he held in his hand, illuminated by a dim torch.

The Deep Lake – Victory Road. Midnight.

He was uncertain as to who had summoned him to the dark pool miles beneath Ever Grande, but he had followed his memory to that shadowed place, and now, he stopped and looked out over the still water. Bats carpeted the ceiling, years of faeces rendering the lake toxic to all but a few specialised species, mostly unknown to the outside world. Jack stepped carefully on the wet rock.

"Jack." A voice came from across the cave. Jack slipped and grabbed onto a stalactite , steadying himself. "Jack, I'm across the lake. There's a bridge."

He followed the voice; it struck a familiar chord in his mind, but he couldn't place it – a gruff but gentle voice – eloquent, but powerful. He shined his torch on the water, and scanned the lake for a bridge. There. A narrow formation of rock, black like the water beneath it and spanning the entirety of the lake. A rope was suspended above it.

He edged his way towards the bridge, the cool rock of the walls chilling his hands. As he stepped onto the bridge, he reached up and took a hold of the tight rope; it held. With both hands on the rope, he swiftly crossed the stone bridge, and stepped securely onto the wide shelf of rock on the other side. Jack looked around and took a solid stance, ready to fight if this was a trap. A chuckle came from the gloom ahead, and he immediately relaxed: the voice belonged to a man he knew well, a man who he could trust.

Zephyr Storm, ex-Champion of the Hoenn League, stood, rising from a low rock, to stand in the torchlight. At his belt were seven pure white pokéballs.

"Jack Stone. I see you're still going then." He said, tossing one of Birch's grey pokéballs to Jack.

"Primeape!" Jack exclaimed, "Where did you get this?"

Zephyr chuckled again, shaking his head; "It fell out of your bag while you were in Ever Grande. Lucky for you, the owner of the café you were in is against the new regime. Most people, as I'm sure you've noticed, would have turned it in and had you hunted down."

It was true. Jack had been surprised by the sheer ignorance of the people he had met in Lilycove, Slateport, and Ever Grande; most had nothing but disgust for pokémon, and those who didn't kept quiet for fear of having a visit from the garrisons that now patrolled every city. It was as if the government had prepared this, even before Oscar's death.

"Anyway, the guy came and found me, and I recognised Primeape as yours. But that's not all you came here for." Zephyr became more serious, "Jack, there are things going on beneath the crust. Oscar destroyed the lab over Mount Chimney, yes, and William Robertson and a good number of his men were killed, but Magma still lives on. Plautius, so far as I know, is still at large, at the head of a special division of the army – yes, they have infiltrated the army. They specialise in subjugation and general inspiration of fear. Siggurdson is missing, presumed dead, but rumour has it that he has re-established a stronghold of old Magma, and is building up support. There are remnants everywhere, Jack, and they're screwing things up. The government is still full of them, and they're getting stronger again. Jack, Oscar may have stopped them from destroying Hoenn, but they are achieving their aims in different ways. Without Robertson, they aren't bent on destroying pokémon, but they have still used his plans. Jack, they aren't releasing the pokémon they confiscate. They're training them."

Jack reeled, despair growing behind his eyes. He had come to the city to fight for his friends, but, if this was true, his opponents were more deadly than ever. And now? Now they had an army.


End file.
